Runaway Children
by Dainty.Swede
Summary: Is it okay to be different? Is it okay to not belong? Is it okay to run away from reality? That is his choice, though fate and destiny can change with the snap of the fingers. Arthur Kirkland has moved from England to America for his father's job. He has to cope with being different, being weird, being gay, while at a homophobic high-school. Will he stay or runaway? USUK AU


Runaway Children.

Chapter 1: Crossroad Tarmac

_Flight BAW209 is now boarding for flight to Miami Florida, all travellers' please report to gate number 28 for immediate departure._

The flat and lifeless voice of the flight desk women resonated throughout the entire airport. People large in masses trudged lankly on their feet, with roller bags blazing past on the spotted carpet flooring.

Children were being held by their mothers, the women gently rocking them in order to calm down their shrill cries that screeched through the hectic panic of the airport. Through all the madness and the canoes of Heathrow airport, there was a tiny glimpse of solidarity.

A boy of golden blonde and emerald-green eyes sat cross-legged at one of the seats near the terminal gate. He wasn't joining the masses of people filing into the gate. No, he was sitting there, looking around idly through the thick glass of his bulky black framed spectacles.

In his hand was a book, a beautiful book at that. The book was leather-bound and had the most beautiful feeling when you ran your hands over the cover. It was smooth, smooth like flat water in a fishing pond. The title of the cover, "Runaway children". It simply related to the boy.

This boy had a longing to be free. Not tied down with the thick crippling ropes of society or the chains and binds of belonging. This boy was different, he knew it but no one else did. Everyone else took him as a weirdo, a freak. An inhuman creation of life. But in reality he was gay.

Yes, exactly gay. A gay trapped in the locked abyss of the closet. Not the newest thing of the 21st century nor would it be the last. But it still defined him as something different. And wasn't being different okay? Nothing was wrong with being different and in life those who are weird are often the successors.

Take Albert Einstein for example. People looked at him differently due to his philosophies and creations. People judged him for what he was and you know what, he became famous. One of the world's most renowned scientist and physicist came from someone being weird, being different.

Would that be the case for this boy of blonde and emerald green? Or would society swallow him up into its depths and deception. Only time would tell for this to be runaway child, only time would tell if he would take the leap of faith to freedom.

"Arthur, dearie, are you ready to go?" called out his mother. The boy, Arthur, meekly nodded and pushed himself out of the uncomfortable plastic chair, tucking away the leather bound book.

"Yes, mother," He replied quickly, stepping forward to walk beside the blonde haired women.

"I really hope you are excited to move to America. Your father has been looking for a new position for months and I am so happy for him finding one," she said handing the ticket over to the girl at the front of the terminal, "it's a pity it had to be so far away," a glum tone could easily be heard in her voice.

Arthur smiled wryly at that and proceeded to give the gleaming girl the ticket. He slung the shoulder bag on the other shoulder to balance the weight out. "I hope it's a good new start, mum. As you always said 'you've always got to look for new experiences,'" He said it in a way that sounded as if he had been taught it his whole life.

Arthur's mother smiled at that, a true genuine smile that slightly cracked in-between her foundation and messed up the pale pink lipstick she was wearing.

Arthur felt his feet shift from the vinyl flooring to the cold harsh steel of the metal staircase. Each ginger step that he took up the staircase was on that was closer to a new life. Further away from the life that he once had in England, further away from the mess and the horrors of his past.

Brushing off memories like flurries of snow on shoulders he continued up the stairs until he was met with the air hostesses. Their smiles were plastered in thick, fake, glossy red lipstick and their hands were leading him into the plane. He gladly stepped in, his mother following close behind.

Finding his seat was considerably easy as most of the other passengers had already taken their seats, reducing the frantic search of setting in an effort to get in first. There was no rush, so why bother.

The mother and son settled down in their seats, Arthur pulling out his book while his mother pulled out her phone. Arthur set the book down in his lap—he wasn't allowed to take out the pull out tables yet— and fished in his bag for his Ipod.

Bits of paper, fellow books and pens were all he could find until he reached the bottom of the black abyss and took out his green Ipod shuffle. Setting it in his lap also, he fiddled with his headphone set that was always a pain to untangle.

_Good day ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, we just have a reminder to keep your seatbelts on and your tray tables up as we will be taking off in approximately five minutes. So do sit back and relax until that time, thank you._

The captain announced through the loud speaker but the noise was muffled as the sound of John Lennon's voice drummed through the earphones. If Arthur had an undying love and passion for anything, it was most definitely The Beatles. He was a killer for the classics.

The five minutes of being stationary seemed to be over fairly quickly, as the jet hummed low and loud and the plane started to roll forward on the tarmac. Arthur flicked open to where he had placed his bookmark—a red and grey coloured feather of a robin that he collected and laminated when he was younger—and his finger traced the ink markings of the first word of the book.

_You are alone_.

Arthur wasn't exactly sure when he fell asleep, nor was he sure when he was well over halfway to America. But he was sure that his mother had woken him as the smell of chicken soup wafted up to his nose. The fresh smell of aeroplane food wasn't the most pleasant food in the world but it sure beats starvation.

One emerald green eye open after the other and Arthur shifted his head groggily over to his mother who had at one point during the flight pulled her hair up into a tight bun with tussles of golden hair hanging out.

"Good morning sleepy head," she greeted to Arthur and Arthur gave his best I-just-woke-up smile. He sat forward being careful not to bump the book off onto the floor. Arthur's consciousness slowly came in and he instinctively looked out the window to see wisping cloud cover that weaved in and out of each other with the change of wind. The sky was dark outside the window and his visibility was tunnelled and myopic as he stared out absentmindedly.

"How long until we land in Miami?" Arthur asked not taking his eyes of the window once. His mother sighed and reached for her phone.

"Another two hours. I'm surprised at you Arthur, you usually don't sleep on planes," She said recalling the time that Arthur was wide awake for an entire trip to Edinburgh at the age of two.

Arthur grinned knowingly, anytime she brought up anything along the lines of not sleeping on planes, her mind would always go back to Edinburgh. The trip to Edinburgh was to see his cousin, aunt and uncle who were living there.

"May I remind you that was a one hour flight," He said smirking slyly. His mother chuckled at that response, a typical Kirkland response at that.

"I know that, and I'm glad you slept anyway. You've been looking terrible lately,"

"I'm sorry mum, I just haven't been sleeping well," he told her while distracting himself with the hem of his blue sweater vest. In his mother's opinion Arthur looked like an adorable nerd. With a blue sweater vest, white undershirt, the only killer factor was the black jeans and the red converse (He has a Doctor Who addiction).

"Well I hope a change of scenery will make you feel better," She said earnestly.

Arthur hummed and shifted his body closer to the warm comfort of chicken soup. The welcoming smells of chicken and parsley were beckoning him to take a sip. He picked up the plastic spoon and began to eat, the soup running down his throat and warming up his entire body with its presence.

"Mother?" Arthur asked breaking the silence of slurping.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Do you know when father will be coming to America?" Arthur asked, bringing his book to sit up on the tray table.

"Hm…" he trailed off thinking, "I think he said a week or two, he just has to tidy a few things in the office and then he'll be with us."

Arthur's dad worked in the corporal business. He worked for the company American Macy's and finally received the promotion that he wanted to receive. Arthur wasn't entirely happy with Thomas getting the promotion; if he were overly honest the bastard didn't deserve to get it.

"Arthur you've gone quiet, what's wrong?" Arthur's mother asked breaking Arthur out of his thoughts.

He pushed his glasses up his face that were once hanging askew on the ridge of his nose and looked back down at his half-finished chicken soup. "No nothing's wrong mum, as I said before I'm just really tired," He added a small chuckle as he felt his eyes flutter tiredly once again.

Arthur's mother smiled at this, "All-right then, you go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we're about to land."

A mumbled reply came from Arthur as he shifted his head away from his mum and closer to the window, just lazily watching the clouds dancing in the dark outside before sleep finally found him.

_You are alone_

The next time Arthur woke up with a freight and almost jumped out of his seat as he let out a small yelp. A few passengers who were close by turned to look at the person who disrupted their silence before turning back around, paying Arthur no notice as he were a just another passenger again. **No one important.**

"Arthur wake up, we're about to land," His mother's voice rang through his drowsy mind and he stretched far out, not too far to hit his mum, but just far enough. He looked up to see the seatbelt light was flashing brightly, urging people to take their seats for landing.

His mother seemed more excited than what he had seen while he was sitting at Heathrow airport. It appeared that the closer the plane was to America the more enthusiastic she felt and the more ecstatic she got. It was appealing for Arthur to see her this way, over the past week she was more depressed than himself and not to sound completely like a mama's boy, he really did care for her.

"Thanks mum," Arthur responded straightening up in the seat and cracking his back with a slight strain.

"Arthur when we get off the plane we are going to get a taxi and drive to our new house okay? The car doesn't come for a week for when your father gets here so we'll both have to walk to school and work," she said calmly as if not having a car wouldn't be an issue at all.

"Yeah I guess I can deal with that mum," Arthur replied with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.

In what felt like seconds to him the plane had landed and the captain had given the OK for people to leave to plane. Many people filled out of the plane like ants out of a drowning nest, all but Arthur and Elizabeth. They waited patiently once again.

The pair left once all was quiet and made way to the baggage claim which was all but vacant except for two bags, a black fabric one and a plastic one embellished in the union jack.

Elizabeth made the best decision to get the flight late at night to be in Florida. Hardly anyone was there and the airport was deathly quiet it was ghostly.

A small line of taxi's were at the pickup area just outside the front entrance and Arthur ran for the closest one, hopping in with determination to get to his new house and go to bed. Arthur's mum came barrelling after, her bag rolling over the cracks in the concrete.

Once both bags were placed in the back of the cab Elizabeth quickly gave the directions of the new house to the driver and they were off, speeding out of the airport carpark.

The ride in the cab was quiet, no one made a noise, no-one dared to speak up, only focusing on the road or out the window in Arthur's case. _So this is America_, Arthur thought looking at the cars blazing fast and all the blinking lights of the cities and suburbs.

The silence soon passed and Arthur was faced with a house that he had recognised through countless pictures and real-estate websites. The house was so much bigger than the house he had in Kent. It was lined with red brick work and hand a fresh coat of white paint lingered its way up the supporting wooden beams. The house looked homely and warm and was thankfully fully furnished.

Elizabeth paid the fare and received the bags the driver had kindly laid out on the curb. Arthur fetched his bag from his mum and rolled it slowly up the concrete driveway, taking in his surroundings of street lights and garden beds.

Yes, this would do just fine.

_You are not home_

* * *

><p><strong>New Fanfiction yay! So guys this is my new USUK story, I really hope you enjoy it and I feel so much more confident than I did with my first fanficiton because I have it planned out a tinsey bit better. Oh and to explain my absence I'm super duper sorry I've been caught up with school and Supernatural, because I'm getting back into that show and I love it. (Destiel is my ship now!)<strong>

**I hope to see you next chapter bros!**

**Nikki xx**


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